


Oblivion

by Kamuucab



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Gen, Johns POV, Light of creation shenanigans, Listen it’s good I promise, Merle is mentioned, Slight Violence, The hunger is a hungy boy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-29
Updated: 2018-09-29
Packaged: 2019-07-20 08:39:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16133669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kamuucab/pseuds/Kamuucab
Summary: The Hunger hunted the IPRE for a full century. What went on in that time? What was John thinking? And how could he have misplaced his step so terribly as to sink into endless oblivion?





	Oblivion

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this a while ago and never posted it, and was persuaded by my friend to do so. Thanks, Theo.

John had always thought his control was absolute.

After all, he was the one who created the Hunger. His words, formed from his lips into sound to the ears of those who listened, united his universe with one ideal. All of the realms crashing together and mixing, mingling, until it all coalesced into a beautiful darkness shot through with colour, blacker than black, lead only by him - the head of what could be accurately described as an insatiable gullet.

Countless realms had succumbed to his creation and, technically, to him. He may have been a part of a mass of millions of people, creatures, and machines, but only he had the privilege of existing partially as his own being. He was the Hunger; and yet, he was not. He was also John.

The Hunger had never shown discontent over this detail. John fed them, after all. He lead them to realities, he let them feed. He was John; their saviour, their prophet of a better reality. The leader of an amalgamation of the best of the universes. John was the one who would break the fabric of space and time apart, and reform it into a perfect utopia.

One realm he found was quite interesting, like a scientist studying a slide under a microscope.  
This reality had gotten ahold of a peculiarly powerful object; something they called the Light of Creation. There was an organization called the IPRE that had been using it and running experiments with this ball of immense power, and in doing so, they had gained immeasurable knowledge of the arcanic and scientific kind, and developed a technology that he had never seen - they had developed a kind of power called bonds that could help them travel across realities, and in using it, people had escaped the Hunger's reach. Seven beings; three humans, two elves, a dwarf, and a gnome. 

What had then commenced was a race. A treasure hunt of sorts. These seven beings would pop in and out of realities to chase the Light that continued to dance across the realms. John's routine began to be sending out scouts to find them and the Light's broadcast. His brood wouldn't let them escape, so he relented in allowing the chase to happen. It was actually kind of exciting, after centuries of consumption and nothing else.

The IPRE group was entertaining. They travelled realities, chasing a light that they could never quite hold, always falling just short of their goal. He laughed at their attempts, though they reminded him of himself to some extent - eternally chasing after something better, unable, or perhaps too stubborn, to give up completely. They just couldn't see the Hunger for how great it truly was. It was pitiable, if he could have felt pity.

Then one day, the unexpected happened. Each reality had its own unique brand of magic, John knew, used by the beings within to create or destroy. He had felt a tug on his being halfway towards the next planear reality before he was dropped in a meeting room high up in a skyscraper, much like one his reality had once contained.

He had been dragged into a kind of magic called parlay.

Merle Highchurch was a simple dwarf; witty though oblivious, brave but naive, understanding yet blunt. John took him and his quirks in stride, though he felt confusion throughout their meeting. John did kill the dwarf man at first, but he came back quickly, so John just had to deal with it, he supposed. Merle kept reappearing, bringing him into parlay, trying to make conversation. It was... oddly sweet. John hadn't actually had a proper conversation with anyone in eons. Being an immortal attached to a plane of pure living envy and Hunger left him with no time, room, or possibility of making friends. And yes, after a few cycles, he considered Merle a friend. Though he knew that Merle and his friends would inevitably join his brood, he almost delighted in sharing and exchanging words with another sentient being.

Though Merle tried to reason with John, it was an ultimately fruitless task. John didn't listen. Wouldn't listen. This was a game; the group and their interesting ship would leave a reality, and then John would send scouts as soon as the Light showed itself to him. His scouts would find the Light, and the group, and he would steer the Hunger to them. Merle was simply a distraction that, though fun on a surface level, was really a ploy to delay the inevitable. To delay him.

John found it cute.

What was really intriguing about the group was that they never gave up, though their goal would never be reached. They almost failed a few times, sure, but somehow they always pulled through. Some stroke of luck would save them at the last minute. Was it destiny? Fate? John chalked it up to dumb luck. John was destiny, after all. The destiny of all realms, in time.

They were just little birds, trying to fly away from the pull of a hurricane. Desperately prying at the feathers of their wings that caught the wind, hoping to come loose from the storm. Brave birds, strong ones too. They were going to be a wonderful addition to his cause.

At least, until he couldn't find them anymore.

It hadn't seemed to be a problem to John when the scouts had turned up with nothing. He was a bit shocked, sure, but it was quickly shoved away as he quieted his brood and sent them out again. Many, many cycles ago, the scouts were slow in finding the Light. They had grown quicker at finding it as of late, but it was probably another one of their tricks to stall him, something new they had conjured up. 

But as the "time" (it was a figure of speech, time was irrelevant to John) passed, and the scouts continued to find no trace of the Light, the Hunger began to grow restless. At first, it was a minor tremor that never quite stopped. Then, murmuring too quite to understand. Soon they began to speak.

**Where are they John?**

**We are hungry**

**So hungry**

**Where did they go?**

**Are they hiding?**

**Where are they hiding?**

**Are you hiding them?**

**Where is the Light?**

**We are hungry John**

**So hungry John**

 

**Find them**

**Find them**

**Find them**

 

Their whispers rose into a dull roar each moment that the birds were not found. They channeled their discontent directly to John, making him feel their screaming stomach. They thrashed with anger, closing in and pressing in all around John's body; their saviour and prophet with an unfulfilled promise. John began to struggle as limbs formed from the darkness to cling to his suit, clinching tight to the fabric as they shook him for answers.

John quickly realized what had happened. No longer were they placated by his words. No longer were they placated by his promises. He was losing - had lost - his control over them. John realized that he was no longer considered their leader. They lead themselves now.

His clothing teared as they tried to drag him under the darkness and assimilate him into their being, multicoloured lights within flickering faster. Afflicting him with pain, with poison, trying to break his willpower as they tried to widen their connection to him.

John resisted.

"I made you into the power you are now. Patience is the virtue we must hold if you wish to be victorious. The birds can not hide from us forever!" He shouted. But his words fell upon deaf ears. Eyes broke open from the walls, focusing on him with a burning intensity as the walls continued to crush him. 

Despite the abilities he had acquired, despite his willpower, they began to break through the barriers he had made. Rips opened up in his once unbreakable suit. Cracks of absolute darkness broke through his skin and raced up his arms and neck. John screamed in agony as his eye split open, a roiling mass of glittering blackness spilling from the ruin, arcing up his forehead and down his chin. His fingers jittered as he pressed against it to somehow get rid of the pain, feeling his legs slip into what felt like mud and muck that lapped hungrily at his physical form.

Until, quite suddenly, it all stopped.

In unimaginable pain, John vaguely felt the Hunger still its attack. A small part of his clouded mind wondered why before he too felt it. He could feel the Light again.

The muck flowed away from his legs, and he fell onto his hands. There was a quick searing pain in his eye before he could see through it once again. The suit he wore was ripped but not shredded and mostly intact. He was still John, for now.

He stood back up on wobbly legs, eyes darting around as the Hunger expanded the walls into a fair-sized room, two chairs and a table rising up from the darkness. Without speaking, eyes opened up in the walls, all looking at him. John stared at the table, and then the eyes. Clearing his throat and straightening his tie, he took a seat at the table, mind racing. He understood what they wanted him to do. When the Hunger finally arrived to the realm, they wanted him to bring Merle into parlay. John was no longer the irreverent leader; he was the hostage. And he had to think of a way to tell Merle how to stop them. He practiced the incantation he would use to summon Merle's consciousness and waited, thinking. With a flick of his wrist, a chessboard was summoned onto the table. 

John knew, somehow, he knew, that the end was nearing. A final battle was brewing, and he didn't know if he wanted to win or not.

Assembling his jumbled mind into some sort of order, he prayed, for the first time in a long time, to whatever greatest being their was.

And he begged for their forgiveness.


End file.
